Rose of Hope (2 page)

She stiffened as her executioner stepped close behind her.

I am about to die. Now. How will it feel? Will it hurt? How long before the blackness comes? I thought myself beyond fear, but I am afraid. I am so afraid. Oh, please, let it be quick!

She gritted her teeth.

Ruald will break me not!

The soldier grasped a hank of hair at the base of her skull and yanked, exposing her throat. She yelped at the sting and felt herself quiver, as would ale in a moving cask. Through her peripheral vision, she saw the blade of his hadseax lift, its razor-honed edge catching the light. A shaft of pure terror hitched her breath in her throat and she started to pant. She felt suffocated.

I cannot breathe! I cannot breathe!

Desperate to hold at bay the fear, to behold with her last sight a thing of beauty, she riveted her vision on a lone seagull as it winged through the brightening blue expanse overhead, its mournful cry piercing the hush and echoing the grief in her heart.

CHAPTER TWO

Three days earlier, the middle of the night

“She did
what?”

Captain Fallard D’Auvrecher barely remembered to moderate his query to a growled whisper. He and his men sheltered in the bottom of a ravine in the forest, a league north of Wulfsinraed burh, the island fortress they planned to attack, but in the clear, quiet night, sound would carry. Their presence must remain secret for a short while longer.

“’Tis truth, Captain.” The messenger was insistent. “The news was all the villagers spoke of this day. ’Tis said the lady murdered her husband, Thegn Sebfeld. Now his brother, Sir Ruald has cast her into a holding pit and ordered her execution for dawn, three days hence. Her loyal hearth companions die with her. Sir Ruald announces himself the new lord.”

“This is a tale of much intrigue, Captain. Methinks it may change our plans,” said Trifine, his First.

Fallard agreed. “He risks much with this action. Tell the rest. Why did the Lady Ysane do this thing?”

“’Tis said Sir Renouf killed her babe in a sotted rage, before her eyes. She slew him then, with his own sword.”

Fallard detected in the messenger’s tone both admiration at her audacity, and shock that a mere woman dared raise her hand in violence against her husband. He concurred with the admiration, for he had first hand knowledge of the lady’s character. Known for her gentleness and goodness, only the greatest of provocations would drive her to murder.

Across from him Jehan, his Second, snorted his disgust. “The man is a greater fool than his brother does he think to hold Wulfsinraed for himself and escape censure.”

“Does he accomplish his intent,” Trifine said, “William will offer more than censure. Most like, his insolence will cost his head.”

Fallard’s brow puckered. “I cannot allow the lady to be executed. I have plans for her, an objective supported by the king. We must hope she succumbs not to the injurious conditions in the pit before Sir Ruald can follow through with his plan.”

Though preserving her life was of no great import to their primary task, Fallard wanted the Lady Ysane to live, for he wished to take her to wife. When he had first arrived in the area with his troops some nine days earlier, he had spied on the burh with Trifine. During their surveillance, the lady came forth from the hall, a basket on her arm, to walk to the village with her cousin, Lady Roana. The reports of her beauty and grace were not exaggerated. Dainty and petite as elven-kin, she wore a cyrtel of white linen, and overtop it, a voluminous syrce of green velvet gathered, in the Saxon manner, by a corded belt at her waist. A white headrail with a gold circlet framed her face and encompassed her upper torso in its soft folds. She reminded him of the white roses in his mother’s garden, heady and refined. His body had responded predictably to idle thoughts of her in his bed, but he curbed the distraction of misplaced lust. He had waited all his warrior’s life to wed such a woman. He could wait a few days longer to slake his desire.

The headrail hid her hair from his prying eyes, but Trifine, who possessed a rare talent for ferreting out information both useful and obscure, informed him ’twas waist-length, soft as a hare’s belly fur and much the same flaxen color of said fur. Fallard had no wish to learn how his First gained this information.

Scudding clouds played hide and seek with the moon then fled to the west, flooding the ravine with light.

“Captain?”

Fallard started at Trifine’s quiet hail. Preoccupation had not been a personal shortcoming until the day he had laid eyes on the Lady Ysane. He masked his disgruntlement. “We will speak of this later. We need more information, but will continue the discussion of strategy with what we know, and adjust it as needful.”

Mirth, underlain by his customary blasé mien, sparked in Trifine’s voice. “Think you, you will have need of my special skill?”

The corners of Fallard’s eyes crinkled in answering amusement. “Mayhap, you should tighten your bowstring, in case.”

Knights disdained to use a bow, a mere footsoldier’s weapon. But his First was a longbow archer of unsurpassed skill, a true artist who learned from his father, who was taught by the wild
Walha
of Cymry. He had never been bested in any competition, a fact that startled, and betimes angered, his competitors. It amused him others scorned him for his expertise. In Trifine’s view of the world, mastery of any weapon was a worthy goal for a knight. Fallard had reason to appreciate Trifine’s ability, and over the twelvemonths of their association, it had become something of a jest between them. But if this new information they had received was accurate, Fallard might well need his First’s exceptional prowess at dawn in three days.

“I had thought not to enjoy this task,” Trifine mused, “but daily it grows of greater interest. But a pox on Ruald for his delay of our attack. I had thought to be in the arms of the fair Roana by the morrow’s eve.”

This time Fallard’s amusement reached his lips. His First had emitted a long, low whistle beneath his breath and declared himself in love, on first sight, with Lady Ysane’s beautiful cousin.

“Know you, she will not have you,” Jehan said.

Low chuckles from the men around them accompanied the comment.

Trifine’s silver hair glinted in the moonlight as he angled his head. “So say you, my friend. But I say ’twill be with her as it is with me. ’Tis said she is a widow, and thus have her desires been fired. She has learned of pleasure, and will wish for a man’s intimate embrace. I will have her, willing, within a seven-day of our victory.”

“We must first achieve that victory,” Fallard said, before any could take up the wager. He dropped his chin onto his chest, pulled his shoulders back in a hard stretch to relieve weary muscles, then rotated the left shoulder. “As you say, Trifine, this news changes more than our plan to attack on the morrow. It changes the manner, as well, for ’tis my thought we must now revert to greater stealth.”

“You believe Ruald will kill her if we launch a direct assault, as planned?”

“Aye, and her hearth companions, to prevent the possibility they may gain their freedom and fight against him. ’Tis my wish that each of those men pledge their loyalty to me. If we set them free and rescue their lady, and take the burh from Sir Ruald, who is held in dislike by ceorls and soldiers alike, mayhap those pledges will come willingly. You are our tactician, Trifine. What say you?”

The muted sounds of night seemed to grow louder as Trifine mused. A nightjar called. The evening breeze soughed softly, and the men shuffled as they took the moment to resettle themselves.

Fallard absently scratched an inconveniently located itch and considered events. The king had sent him to Wulfsinraed with orders to take the burh from its wealthy lord, Baron Renouf of Sebfeld, whose family was among the members of Saxon nobility that had actively supported William’s claim to the throne in opposition to Harold Godwineson. But the foolish baron had enraged the king, and more severely than Wulfsinraed’s former lord, Eorl Kenrick Wulfsingas, whom William had banished three twelvemonths earlier for his role in the revolt led by Ralf, Eorl of East Anglia, and Roger, Eorl of Hereford. William gained proof of Kenrick’s treason through a betrayal by Renouf. William then rewarded Renouf with the barony of Wulfsinraed through marriage to the younger Wulfsingas daughter. But William’s recent discovery that the man he had placed in power at Wulfsinraed to serve him was in fact, as disloyal as Eorl Kenrick had made him determined to place a trusted Norman as lord of the burh.

With a personal force of fifteen mounted knights, and seven times that many of William’s foot soldiers, Fallard had a small army with which to carry out his sovereign’s command. His spies, posing as Saxon merchants, learned the lay of the land and the particulars he needed. ’Twas determined the fortress could be taken, and swiftly, for Renouf spent much of his time half-sotted, a state apparently aided and abetted by his brother, and his rule was more lax than was wise. No one checked those who passed through the gates into the courtyard.

Renouf’s negligent arrogance was Fallard’s good fortune. The original plan called for a number of his men to enter the burh one at a time, wearing the clothing of merchants and ceorls. At a prearranged signal, they would attack from within, securing the double gates even as the bulk of troops launched their assault from without.

Howbeit, Fallard now feared that should something go wrong, if the alarm went up before the men inside could secure the gates, the rest of the troops would be shut out. Ruald, like his brother Renouf, had a reputation for hasty, unpleasant decisions regarding the life and death of others. He would torture and kill Fallard’s men and eliminate any others who might turn against him, including the Lady of Wulfsinraed and her warriors. There would be naught Fallard could do to prevent it.

But if they waited until morn three days hence and attacked while the imminent executions captured every man’s focus, those at risk would be out in the open and much easier to defend. The factor of surprise would also be that much greater.

“What is your assessment, Trifine?”

“Three days, Captain. We wait.”

“For what?”

“On the third morn from now, we move into place. We stop the executions. We take the burh.”

“I see. So easily achieved.”

“Aye. I’ll give you more when I know more.”

“I like this plan. ’Tis simple, and straightforward. I could not have thought of it myself.” Fallard bothered not to hide his sarcasm.

The gleam of his First’s teeth in the moonlight displayed his appreciation for the jest. “Aye, it
is
simple, and simple oft succeeds best.”

Fallard ordered those men not on watch to get some rest. The small group dispersed. Jehan went off to make his rounds of the guards.

Nearby, Fallard’s squire, Roul, and Fauques, squire to Trifine, lay curled in sleep.

Trifine laid out his bedroll and stretched out. “Fauques dreams of glory in battle. Ah, but I envy the ease of his sleep. Fallard?”

“Mmmm?”

“You continue to hold out on me, my friend.”

“You still wish to know how the ripe plum of Wulfsinraed came to be dropped into my undeserving hands.”

“Mayhap, not so undeserving, but there were others who expected the king’s choice to fall on them.”

“True enough.” Fallard watched as a small shadow floated overhead, blinking out starlight as it flew. A nighthawk, mayhap. “You will say next you will not sleep, do I fail to explain.”

A chuckle floated from the darkness. “Aye, I might say that, but ’twould be not truth. I am merely curious. ’Tis not like you to keep matters so close, at least not with me. Yet, I would not trespass. Do but tell me to mind my own counsel, and I will ask not again.”

“’Tis no great secret. I had in my possession that which swayed William’s decision.” He pillowed his head with his hands. “There is a debt of honor I owe the lady of Wulfsinraed through her father, Eorl Kenrick Wulfsingas, with whom I once spent much time. To discharge that debt, I approached our sovereign to request the right to lead this venture.

“Never before have I presumed to set price upon duty. But I admit I covet the gift of becoming honorial lord to Wulfsinraed, as I covet its mistress. I considered the asking worth the risk of aggravating William’s temper. He demanded my reason. I spoke eloquently of the matter.” His muffled snort was rueful. “He was not pleased. He meant to offer the demesne to another, but my debt was not small and he was caught between two horns, his own personal code of knightly honor, and his expectation that his knights abide by the same code. Imagine, if you will, our liege-lord, reclined in his chair, left eyebrow cocked and unamused speculation in his glance.”

“Phew. Methinks mayhap, you sweated beneath that regard, Fallard.”

Fallard grunted. “Aye, I squirmed upon his hook, and let him see. I know not how long he regarded me in silence, but methinks my discomforture helped to ease his ire. I have been with him since I gained my spurs at Sanguelac
,
and have since fought with him, side by side, in many battles. He knows the mettle of my loyalty in this time when allegiance comes with a cost. Still, it strained his composure mightily to have his options whittled to but one. Half a dozen expressions crossed his face, none of them reassuring to my eyes, and the last a scowl worthy of Grendel. But then he sighed, and consented.”

Fallard felt again the swell of accomplishment. “Soon the burh, its wealth, and its woman will be mine. I anticipate it with much pleasure.”

Silence hung over the ravine, then Trifine wriggled, seeking a more comfortable position. “And I count the hours until I have a thick, downy pallet upon which to lay my weary flesh.”

His captain’s answer was a soft snore.

CHAPTER THREE

At noontide the following day Fallard, dressed in a black cloak with a cowl pulled low to shield his distinctively shaven head, entered the village with one of the spies. Gossip was rife, and while publicly, all decried the lady’s evil deed and upheld the sentence of death, the whispered conversations overheard led Fallard to believe Thegn Sebfeld had earned his fate and none were sorry for his passing. It seemed the rumors of his character were true. He had been a man both mean and malicious, and a violent drunkard. He had abused the trust of his people and his lady wife.